He was right beside me. My father and my brother were both right there. My body collapses onto the floor as I gasp for breath, stretching out my mangled arm. In the flicker of flames and shadows, I see a shiny black shoe. Italian leather. Laces perfectly knotted. A rose emblem on the sole. It could only be my father or Leandro.

Using the last of my strength, I drag myself forward again, grabbing onto the leather to pull me closer. But instead of leverage in the weight of his body, I find nothing but give. It takes me a few sputtering breaths to realize I'm holding his severed leg in my hand.

His blood drips down my arm, mixing with my own before it splatters onto the concrete. At last, darkness takes me.

"Santiago."

Something shatters around me, and I hurl myself back, crashing into what feels like a brick wall. I'm swinging without a thought, punching the air, fighting off invisible demons when Mercedes's voice drags me from my delirium.

"Jesus, Santi! Wake up! Open your eyes."

I freeze, forcing my eyes open, blinking several times as my chest heaves with ragged breaths, and I take in my surroundings. I'm slumped back into my office chair, paint dust from the wall behind me covering my shirt. There’s a bottle of scotch broken on the floor, and my knuckles are bloodied from hitting something. The wall. The bottle. I can't even be sure at this point.

Mercedes is standing in the doorway, surveying the scene with undisguised frustration. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she snaps.

Her lip is trembling, emotion choking her voice, and for one terrible moment, I find myself questioning if I actually hurt her.

"You didn't come near me," I say hoarsely.

"Of course, I didn't," she hisses. "I'm not an idiot. I know what you're like. But this is getting out of hand, Santi. You haven't had nightmares this bad in months."

I scrub a hand over my face, trying to shake off the memories. "I haven't been sleeping enough. That's all."

"No, you haven't," she barks. "Because you're a goddamned mess. You're drinking night and day. Slumped over this desk every waking moment. Storming around The Manor like a zombie. You need to snap out of it."

"Watch how you speak to me," I warn her.

"No." She crosses her arms defiantly. "I'm not going to pacify this behavior because I love you too much to let you backslide. I know things suck right now. Okay, they really fucking suck. But you have to get it together. For all of us. I can't go through this again with you, Santi. I can't. I won't survive it."